


all the bad dreams that you hide

by hypatiadysania



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types
Genre: Alpha Ben Solo, Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Alternate Universe - College/University, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Angst, Bullying, Enemies to Friends to Lovers, Enemies to Lovers, Explicit Sexual Content, Humor, Minor Poe Dameron/Finn, Misunderstandings, Multi, Mutual Pining, Omega Rey (Star Wars), Praise Kink, Slow Burn
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-01-02
Updated: 2021-01-03
Packaged: 2021-03-11 03:15:38
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 8,488
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28498161
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hypatiadysania/pseuds/hypatiadysania
Summary: Poe only had one nice Alpha friend to offer Rey.“A lot of my contemporaries are mated now,” he said, twirling his spaghetti onto his fork and tossing a wink at Finn.  “We’re liable to do that.”“So who’s the guy--or girl,” Rose asked.“Ben.”Rey promptly aspirated her spaghetti.“Rey! What the--”“Someone get water!”“No--you two idiots--”  Rose was first to slap her--hard--on the back.  A few wheezing coughs later, she could speak again.“Sorry,”  Rey’s voice was strained and froggy from the coughing, but appropriate for her panic.  “Ben who?”“Ben Solo.”  Rey went instantly wide-eyed and pale.  There’s no spaghetti to choke on this time.  “Han’s son.”Bizarrely, Rose clapped her hands together in excitement.  “Oh, I love Ben for you!”Or: Rey is a late presenting Omega.  Ben is her boss’s asshole Alpha son.  She’s got one month to find an Alpha to help her through her first heat, and it will not be him. (It will.)
Relationships: Rey/Ben Solo | Kylo Ren
Comments: 20
Kudos: 120





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> new year, new me, i write fic now. tags are kinda shitty so i’ll do TWs at the top of every chapter.
> 
> TW: for childhood abuse, discussion of violence/bullying; liberal use of m-dashes, italics, and flashbacks
> 
> this is dedicated to “the runner” by janeeyre1847 and “summer heat” by isha_ren, the two best (my favorite) and sadly probably abandoned ABO WIPs. 
> 
> enjoy this unbeta-ed trash!

If Rey were anyone else, IKEA would have been the first sign of trouble.

They made the trek on the first Saturday after fall semester loan dispersals--Poe, Finn, Rose, and Rey. Poe insisted on driving (“Alpha bullshit,” Finn teased, as he slipped into the passenger seat), but no one would have fought him for the opportunity to drive Rose’s disused Kia Soul through Coruscant’s weekend traffic. 

Up front, Poe began inching out of the parallel parking spot while Finn watched the traffic behind them. Rose buckled her seatbelt--resigned to deal with whatever damage may come to her car--and turned to Rey in the backseat. “Need a lot for the room?” 

Rey had been subletting a room from Rose’s sister Paige since July. It was small, but the townhouse was close to the subway line that took her straight to Chandrila University’s sprawling city campus. Plus, Rey could keep anything Paige hadn’t been able to sell before she left for her year-long study-abroad in France. Ever the bargain hunter, Rey had snatched up the listing when she saw it on Craiglist during her last semester of community college.

“I don’t think so,” Rey said, forcing a small smile. The camaraderie that came with having housemates remained strange. No one had ever been so willing to involve themselves in the menial details of her life: her preference of coffee creamer, her feelings on Pizza Hut versus Domino’s. 

Rey still found it easier to fade into the background sometimes. There was an established dynamic among the others in the group--Rose and Finn were floormates in their freshman dorm, and Poe had been their resident advisor during his senior year of undergrad. Now, Rose and Finn were juniors, and Poe was working through his graduate degree. 

“So, now that we all have our _refunds_ \--” Poe addressed the car as he eased onto the highway, but smirked and looked for Rose’s gaze in the rearview mirror.

“ _It’s not a refund!_ ” Rose’s eyes snapped to Poe as she ground out the words. Finn sighed, popped in some earbuds, and started scrolling through his phone. “It’s a _loan_ that you’ll have to pay back with _interest--_ ”

“--but not until, like, six months after I graduate--”

“--the details and terms of your loans don’t make them _not loans,_ you dipshit--”

Rey’s smile was real this time. Poe and Rose were constantly falling back into some ongoing argument. Even when Rey didn’t quite get the context, it was fun to watch Rose yell at anyone.

“ _Anyway_ ,” Poe dragged out the word over Rose’s irritated huffing. “Now that we all have _monies_ , how about we host a little party?” Finn pulled his earbuds out, sensing the end of the conflict. “Pizza, beer, and the firepit? Maybe a short bar crawl?”

“ _Someone’s_ got deep pockets, rich boy--” Rose started, but stopped when Finn briefly met her eyes. “Oh-- _oh_ , right, a welcome party for Rey!”

“Oh, no, don’t worry about doing something like that--” Suddenly the center of attention, Rey’s mouth felt dry. “I’m really--you don’t--” _I’m really not part of your group; you don’t have to pretend like I am._

“There’s so many people in the major you should meet, Rey,” Rose was an engineering student, too. “Plus, you work so much. We, like, _never_ see you.”

Rey was about to start sputtering out more excuses, until Finn craned his neck and twisted his body to look back at her. “Just think about it, okay? No pressure.”

****

A welcome party--it was ridiculous, really. The time to welcome Rey to Coruscant had passed months ago, and she didn’t _care_ anyway. And sure, she liked her housemates, but they were just that: four people who paid to live in the same house. They weren’t family. They weren’t even _friends_.

Well, they weren’t _Rey’s_ friends. They were each other’s friends, definitely--more than friends in the case of Finn and Poe--but they didn’t need to pantomime including her just because they felt _guilty_ or something. She wasn’t pathetic. She didn’t need them having silent conversations around her or planning playdates with the other kids in her major.

_Students_ \--students, not kids. Rey was a real adult now. She celebrated her 21st birthday with a jack and coke on the cross country flight from Jakku, and she was too old to feel these stupid, left-out, playground feelings. Coming to Coruscant was supposed to be her adventure. Instead, she was sleeping in a room full of someone else’s stuff and trailing behind a group of someone else’s friends in an IKEA--still feeling like the weird girl she always was.

As they meandered through the showroom, the distance between Rey and her housemates grew. Some sections of the showroom were dedicated to single categories of furniture--a room full of desks, a room full of dining room tables--but other sections were dressed like sets. There were cozy bedrooms, homey living rooms, and each one slowed Rey down a little bit more. Every time she paused, she found herself reverently passing her hands through different soft blankets and rugs, wondering what it would be like to live there.

Because _this_ was what Rey wanted--not a welcome party, but a space that actually felt like home. Something that was hers. Comfortable. Safe.

Urgently, Rey pulled out her phone and began noting the aisle locations of every soft-feeling thing she encountered. It should’ve been a warning sign, but to Rey, it was just the culmination of her dumb, tragic life. As a kid, her family was constantly couchsurfing or in some other state of homelessness. First, it was the three of them in her asshole grandfather’s living room, then it was her and her mom in the backseat of the family sedan, and finally it was just Rey--five years old and crying in the foyer of her first foster home.

_Soft things_ . _Home._ That’s all she wanted. No more scratchy blankets. No more first-night-in-a-new-placement pajamas.

“There you are.” Finn smiled as he rounded the corner of a particularly fuzzy show bedroom Rey had been stuck on for a while. “You ready?”

She nodded and followed him out.

****

Rey left IKEA with $250 worth of... _stuff_. She piled blankets and throw pillows and a sheepskin rug--plus the desk organizing set she actually intended on buying--into the scant legroom of Rose’s car. But it wasn’t weird. They had gone to IKEA to buy those kinds of things.

(Just not Rey. She never spent money that carelessly on ridiculous, fluffy-- )

When she woke up Wednesday morning feeling achy and itchy, Rey wasn’t concerned. She had only just started paying for health insurance again after being without since she turned 18. She hadn’t been to a doctor in twice as long. Once in highschool, she lost her voice for a whole week to some mystery illness. Her foster-dad at the time--Unkar _fucking_ Plutt--still made her work the desk at his mechanic shop.

_(How will I answer the phone? she wrote on the little notepad one of her teachers at school had given her._

_“If I lose a dollar of business because you’re too fucking stupid to answer the phone--” It was the wrong thing to ask. Wrong, wrong, wrong. Unkar was big, not Alpha big, but a Beta’s hands still hurt when they’re backhanding you for saying the wrong thing again --)_

So, ignoring her discomfort and showing up to her shift at the diner with a crick in her neck was easy. Delightful, even. She was lucky to even have the job.

_("You better be grateful, girl!” Plutt was drunk. His voice rolled through the house like thunder. She didn’t understand why it made him so upset. Tuesday was her usual day off from the shop--why couldn’t she have a Friday off instead, just once?_

_Rey sat stock still on the floor of her closet, behind the low rack of clothes. Invisible. Her stomach growled. Skipping dinner again was probably fine, and definitely preferable to encountering Plutt in the kitchen.)_

Besides, Rey was probably healthier than she’d been in years. Working her ass off in high school and community college had earned her a full scholarship to Chandrila University’s engineering program. Her student loans paid for her bills--rent, books, transportation, _health insurance_ \--so her money from the diner could mostly go to food. For the first time since she was still living with her parents and her grandfather, Rey’s weight hovered around a normal BMI.

The bell rang over her head as she stepped into _The Falcon_ . Tiny, ancient Maz was at the hostess stand arguing with a group of highschool aged girls who _said_ they tipped at the table but had stiffed their servers in the past. 

“I see you girls every Wednesday morning,” Maz said, glaring over her reading glasses. “And Omegas can _smell liars_ .” Rey held in a chuckle as a ripple of fear moved through the girls--all Betas like her, she guessed. Alpha and Omegas weren’t _rare_ , exactly, but designations were a private thing, especially for non-Betas. Being an Alpha or Omega came with implications about smells and pheromones that Rey didn’t totally understand. But she was pretty sure Maz couldn’t actually smell deceit.

In any case, the threat worked. The girls paid up and scattered onto the sidewalk, but stayed huddled and whispering as they stared at Maz through the window. Maz winked at Rey as she passed.

Through the kitchen serving hatch behind the counter, Rey could see Chewie and Han, the co-owners and cooks. They were bickering about something related to their supply chain.

“I’m just saying, Sysco’s prices--” Han glanced up from the tomato he was slicing to nod at Rey as she backed in through the swinging door to the kitchen.

“It doesn’t matter how much money we save if no one wants to buy the disgusting shit, Han,” Chewie raised his spatula in greeting while Rey hung her coat on the hooks by the sink. She kept her hoodie on for the autumn chill. 

“Plus their driver is one of those crazy, alt-right Alphas,” she added, tying her apron around her waist. “He kept trying to talk to me about subreddits last week.” 

“Maybe it’s best to stick with USA Foods,” Han mumbled, nodding thoughtfully. “You’ve got a few tables already, kid.”

Rey rubbed her neck and backed out into the diner.

****

It was a weird shift.

The morning was typical--the older neighborhood crowd came in for brunch--but things became strange as the patrons got younger.

First it was the Millers. They were young parents--mid-thirties if Rey had to guess--with two chubby toddlers. The husband (Jake? Blake?) was _aggressively_ friendly in a way he never had been before. Each time Rey refilled their coffees, he stopped mid-sentence to lean over and thank her profusely for doing such a good job. As they paid at the hostess stand, Rey heard the wife’s shrill voice screaming “ _Are you serious?!”_ before Maz could hustle them outside.

“Looks like we’ve got a little homewrecker,” Maz whispered, wiggling her barely-there eyebrows in Rey’s direction as she got closer.

Rey looked at the merchant copy of the credit card receipt. Mr. Miller gave her a 100% tip.

_And he left his phone number?_

Her stomach dropped. That asshole--he had kids--

Maz was seating a large group in the round corner booth before Rey had time to properly seethe. They were all college-aged, male, and sitting shoulder to shoulder on the tufted red pleather.

Rey bottled her rage and put on her customer service voice. “Hi, I’m Rey, I’ll be your server today. Can I get you started with some drinks?” She turned to the blonde on the leftmost side of the booth and tugged back the sleeves of her hoodie as she readied her notebook and pen in her hands.

“We’re actually waiting on a seventh,” a redhead towards the center of the booth answered in a clipped voice. “Can you rehinge your _jaw_ , Cardo?”

Rey looked up at the blonde from her notebook--Cardo, she guessed. His jaw was slightly slack, his nostrils were flared, and he was staring at--her wrists?

The bell rang somewhere behind Rey. “This should be interesting,” the redhead sighed, dragging his hands over his face.

Rey turned at the sound of approaching footsteps. It must have been their seventh and he was--big. Tall, but also broad through the shoulders and chest. Long limbed, but corded in muscle. His hands were like _catcher’s mitts_ , Jesus Christ. And how tall was he, really? Six-foot-three? Six-foot-four? And handsome, too--thick black hair, strong nose, glaring eyes--

Glaring. He was standing between her and the blonde, _glaring._ At her.

“Oh my god, let me get you a seat, I’m so sorry.” There was no room in the booth, especially for him, and Rey had been staring at him for God knows how long. She grabbed a chair from an empty table in her section and put it down opposite of where he was standing.

He didn’t break his glare when he stepped forward, jerked the chair out of her hands, and roughly slid it back behind himself, right next to the blonde. Exhaling like a bull, he slowly sat down and spread his legs wide--not on purpose, but just because that was the space he took up. His frame was enormous, like he was the statue of _David_ , carved out of marble at a larger than life scale, and Rey felt _small_ . One of his thighs was the circumference of her waist and she was still just standing there, confused, bordering on terrified by this giant man who was so _angry_ , but she didn’t understand why.

Wrong, wrong, wrong. Everything she had ever done in her life was wrong.

The redhead pulled a travel bottle of Advil from an inner pocket in his jacket. “How about a pitcher of water for the table while we decide?”

Rey nodded furiously, desperate to get out from under the glare of the newest arrival. She skittered into the kitchen and grabbed a pitcher from one of the prep tables. Sparkling? Still? Tap? One of these was the right answer and she had to do it _right_.

The kitchen door swung open and there he was--he had followed her into the fucking kitchen.

“Ben?”

Han was talking, but the guy ( _Ben?_ ) was still glaring at Rey. “Ben, you really shouldn’t be back here without non-slips on.”

“Is everyone in this diner a fucking _idiot_?” Ben spat the words out, eyes narrowed at Rey. 

_(“Stupid girl--count it again and find it , or it’s coming out of your pocket.”)_

He was a tower of rage--and an Alpha, definitely. Unkar Plutt never looked this huge, even when Rey was ten years younger and a foot shorter. This is it. After clawing her way out of the desert, she was going to die in Han’s kitchen.

“ _Idiot_ ? Says the guy wearing sneakers in _this_ kitchen?” Han looked up from the griddle and caught Rey’s terrified eyes. “Christ, Ben, you’re scaring the daylights out of my server--count to ten.”

Ben clenched his jaw, dug the heels of his palms into his eyes, and maybe actually counted to ten. Rey didn’t know. All she could focus on was her heart pounding in her chest.

“She,” Ben uncovered his eyes and addressed Han directly. “Has a deathwish. And you,” He raised his pointed index finger towards Han. “Are an idiot for letting her work.”

Suddenly, Rey was crying--maybe? At least tearing up. When was the last time she cried? “Look, I know I was slow with the chair--” Yeah, fully crying. Her throat was thick, and as she inhaled a shuddering breath, she felt her face split in two with a sob.

Through her tears, Rey saw Ben’s hands and arms jerk towards her and she yelped, covering her face. He-- _whined_ , or something, like she was the one scaring him, and took a huge step back towards the door. He held his hands out like he was trying to calm an animal and--God she was so _dumb_ , he wasn’t actually going to hit her, and when was the last time she reacted like this to _anything_?

“Ben--out.”

It was Chewie’s low rumble. Rey felt a cool hand on her shoulder guiding her back. He must have just come out of the walk-in. The walk-in sounded nice. Isn’t that where servers are supposed to cry?

Chewie herded her into the office he and Han shared. She could hear heated whispers from the kitchen as he closed the door. 

****

“So--that was my son.”

Han and Rey spent several awkward moments in silence before he spoke.

“He wanted me to ‘apologize deeply for scaring you’ and ‘assure you he meant well,’” Han spoke as if reading from a script.

Rey had calmed significantly since being removed from Ben’s presence--” _Meant well?!”_ \--but was immediately enraged at the mention of him. “Han, he followed me into the kitchen to scream at me because I didn’t get him a chair fast enough!”

“Well, that’s kind of what I’m supposed to talk to you about.” Han leaned back in his desk chair, stared at the ceiling, and steepled his fingers. “Rey, are you--coming up on a, uh--a heat?”

She sputtered in confusion. “No--what?”

Han sighed.

“I know this is--private, and embarrassing, and probably illegal for me to ask, now that I think of it--but, well, you know Maz is an Omega and Chewie is an Alpha--really this is just about keeping you safe--”

No. No, no, _no_ . In all the ways that her life had made her abnormal and maladjusted, at least biology had been kind. At least she didn’t have _heats_ like a _dog._ Nothing Han’s big, dumb, Alpha son said could change that. He couldn’t just burst into the kitchen and declare her a--she was _twenty-one years old_ , for fuck’s sake--

“I guess I should be phrasing this differently. Rey--you’re an Omega.”

* * *

Ben was late because he didn’t want to go.

It was his most annoying habit--several girlfriends, friends, and teachers had informed him over the years. The habit almost forced him to repeat his freshman year of highschool. Thirty five tardies by Christmas--Principal Mothma informed his parents that he’d broken the previous record during an extremely tense parent-teacher conference. But, the later he showed up to class--or the diner, in this case--the sooner he got to go home.

Hux changed the venue for lunch last minute. Vicrul and Cardo had a group project meeting in the library and asked to meet closer to campus, so lunch--celebrating another victory in their men’s recreational hockey league--was at _The Falcon_.

Going to _The Falcon_ at twenty-six years old was less embarrassing than it was as a highschooler, but Ben wasn’t excited to spend an hour fending off cheek pinches from Maz and Chewie. Han was an even bigger concern. His father _lived_ to embarrass him. 

So, when he saw the rest of the team walk in, Ben waited in his car for a few minutes. Once he was sure they’d been seated, he sighed, turned the car off, and made his way to the door.

Maz was seating another group when the bell rang above his head, so he headed towards the round corner booth. It was the only table big enough to seat the team.

Chewie must have been making cookies for the baked goods case by the counter. As Ben moved through the tables, the smell of cookies baking got stronger--but there was a fruitiness, too. Was he making key lime pie? No, the scent wasn’t quite that tart--maybe it was a cobbler, or--

_Pre-heat._

He was smelling pre-heat. The scent was sweeter and lighter than the smell of full heat. Ben liked both--liked the _taste_ of both--but something about the sweetness of pre-heat always made him feel extra protective. There was an Omega somewhere close and he needed to find her and get her somewhere safe. Help her call a friend. Maybe fuck her if she wanted to--or him. He wasn’t one to turn his nose up at a male Omega who smelled this sweet. 

First, he’d find the team and let them know he was needed elsewhere. Then--

It was the waitress. At the round booth, standing in front of his team, there was a waitress who smelled like pre-heat.

She was thin; willowy. Even in jeans and a hoodie she looked _elegant_ \--long legs, long neck. Round ass. Wet pussy, probably.

Cardo was angling himself towards her at the end of the booth--he could smell it, too. Ben hated Cardo sometimes--not because he was the only other Alpha on the team, but because he was _that_ kind of Alpha. The kind who would leer at waitresses and thought it was _so cool that you presented so early, Solo, you’re like, a super Alpha_.

_(“But he’s eleven. I’ve never even heard of presentation this early.” Why wouldn’t everyone just_ shut up _about this._

_“Sweetheart, the kid grew like a beanpole all summer. The shoe fits.” Beanpole . Sasquatch. Big Ben . Every kid at school had a nickname for him that September. Leia didn’t believe him when he told her none of his pants were long enough, so he spent half of the first week in khaki’s that were six inches too short._

_An eighth-grade boy had shouted “ Nice capris!” at him in the cafeteria on the third day and Ben--snapped. He hit him as hard as he could and then he hit him again. And again. And again. Even by the time Ben was dragged to the principal's office, he couldn’t calm down. Couldn’t stop pounding his fists against the wall even as his knuckles broke._

_“ Don’t call me that .” A nurse gave Ben a sedative when they got to the emergency room but he was still on edge._

_“Sorry, kid. I never know what’s gonna set you off these days--”_

_“ Han , he’s in rut , he’s extremely emotional--”_

_Screaming. He spent the rest of the visit screaming until they finally gave him something strong enough to put him out.)_

Ben needed to put himself between Cardo and the Omega--that was his last intelligent thought before he was abruptly _swimming_ in her scent. Was she in heat already? Why was she working--why was Han _letting_ her work right now? She had a pretty face; a delicate little nose and wide, hazel eyes. The tip of her swollen neck glands peeked out of her hoodie.

There were words--she was saying something and trying to give him a chair, but it was so hard to focus. Seriously, what was Han thinking? Or Chewie? Or even Maz?

The tangy smell of distress started to roll off of the Omega--he was freaking her out. Just standing there, not saying anything, staring--of course he was making her nervous. Jerkily, he took the chair she was offering and sat down.

_One. Inhale. Two. Exhale. Three. Inhale._

“How about a pitcher of water for the table while we decide?” Hux’s voice cut through his breathing exercise. The Omega couldn’t get away fast enough.

“Wow--Solo, you _smelled_ her, right? Fucking _dibs_ \--”

Ben was up from his chair and heading for the kitchen. Han, Chewie-- _someone_ needed to send her home.

****

“What the hell is wrong with you?” Han was rightfully pissed. Ben had scared the girl, implied she was an idiot, made her cry, and then made her think he would _hit_ her. Other boys had cowered from him like that through his whole, horrible adolescence. Things weren’t supposed to be like that anymore, and he would never hit a girl, never an _Omega_ \--

“What the _fuck_ is wrong with _you_ \--don’t you do paid heat leave?” Han was whispering, but Ben was practically growling. 

“Heat--Rey’s a Beta. What are you--”

“She smells like pre-heat. She has scent glands. Do you need to go to a health class?”

“He’s right.” Chewie had come back from the office. “It’s dulled at my age, but I can still smell her a little.” He gave Ben a pointed look. “I could definitely smell it when you scared the shit out of her.”

So had Ben. It was sharp, acidic--and heartbreaking to smell on an Omega when he was desperate to make her _safe_ . Ben scrubbed his hands over his eyes. Chewie could probably smell his guilt. “What is she even _doing_ here--seriously, no one bothered to ask about her next heat before you scheduled her?”

“Rey told us she was a Beta! How was I supposed to know?” Han looked between Chewie and Ben. “Are you two sure?”

“I’ve never noticed before today, but--I’m sure, Han.”

Han started moving towards the office. “Wait!” Ben nervously ran a hand through his hair. The girl ( _Rey_?) was either hiding her designation or worse--presenting--and he had outed her to her employer and probably embarrassed her in front of the whole diner. And when he reached out to comfort her she _flinched_.

_(“Besides the tardies, there’s the fighting.” None of the other kids had to come in for their parent-teacher conference. None of the other kids did their parent-teacher conference with the principal ._

_“Fighting? During games, you mean--right?” It wasn’t Ben’s fault. Other kids picked on him, especially upperclassman and other Alphas. Coach Snoke told him this was how pecking orders were established, and someone like Ben was supposed to be at the top._

_“No, Mrs. Solo--”_

_“Mrs._ Organa _-Solo.”_

_“Won’t let me forget it--” Even a meeting about Ben wasn’t really about Ben._

_“Han, hush--we know it was a problem in middle school, but that’s why he’s on the hockey team. It’s an outlet for him.” Ben’s fists were curled in his lap. Leia was always talking about him like he wasn’t there._

_“Yes, but there have been--incidents. Off school property.” In the woods behind the school where he beat the shit out of Alex Hutt for calling him 'ears' all period in science. At the dumpster behind the diner after a couple of seniors came in just to drink water and push his buttons for half an hour._

_“Ben is dangerous to other students.” Well, if people would just leave him alone -- “We’re a mixed designation school. He needs to be able to control himself.”)_

“Dad, can you--tell her I’m sorry. Deeply, deeply sorry. And I didn’t mean--I wasn’t going to--I meant well.”

“Sure, kid.” Han ran a hand through his hair. “Well, wish me luck.”

  
  



	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> yooooooo thank you to everyone who bothered to read this. this is the end of what i have prewritten so updates will probably get shorter/less frequent.
> 
> TWs: childhood abuse in flashbacks, discussion of food insecurity/eating disorders, and (spoiler) underage almost-sex in a flashback (more details in the end note).
> 
> the fic earns its rating in this chapter. briefest mention of choking (both sexual and literal choking on food) if that freaks you out.
> 
> also i've def stolen the concept of rutter from somewhere or just the fandom at large.
> 
> anyway, enjoy!

“Rey--you’re an Omega.” Rey was sitting upright on an exam room table in Planned Parenthood two days later. She gritted her teeth and resisted the urge to roll her eyes as Dr. Holdo delivered the news with the exact same dramatic timing as Han. Were the theatrics required as part of the diagnosis?

There had been a pelvic exam and a rapid blood test. Han’s big, dumb, Alpha son had called it.

“It’s unusual to present this late, but not totally unheard of. I know this must be shocking,” Dr. Holdo spoke softly, and kept her eyes wide and sympathetic. Rey wanted to claw them out. “Usually we see this in Omegas who keep a very low body fat percentage through puberty.” Dr. Holdo paused, as if waiting for Rey to say a line.

“...okay?”

“I know you’ve just been through a cross country move--that must have been stressful.” Rey gave a shrug that ended in a noncommittal nod. She wouldn’t want to do it again anytime soon, but moving wasn’t so bad when all your possessions fit in a carry-on. “Have you been eating well lately?”

Eating _more,_ but maybe not _well._ Two out of three meals were usually greasy diner food. Rey could eat more vegetables and she knew it. “I mean, I could be eating better, probably?”

Dr. Holdo nodded gravely. “And before the move?”

Was this a push for prenatal vitamins or something? The classic Omega stereotype was desperate to have children--but not Rey, at least not yet. She wrung her hands nervously. “Um, probably the same.”

“There’s nothing to be embarrassed about.” Dr. Holdo took one of Rey’s fidgeting hands in her own. “A lot of young people struggle with disordered eating.”

“Oh! No,” Rey let go of Dr. Holdo’s hand in shock and embarrassment, and braced to tell the actual, dirtier truth. “No, uh--food insecurity.” She was ecstatic the day she learned that phrase in a freshman sociology class back in Jakku. Finally, she could stop overexplaining and humiliating herself with half finished sentences about _my parents had problems_ and _my foster dad wasn’t nice_. There was an easy, impersonal term. “When I was younger. Until probably a year ago.” 

Dr. Holdo’s eyes flashed with an emotion Rey couldn’t quite recognize--it was intense, and maybe it showed on her whole face, or her whole body. It was like pity, but not--it was _angry_ , and bright, and smelled like burning hair, somehow--like a resolute knowledge that something _should not have happened_ , but some idiot couldn’t just do the bare minimum and _feed your damn kid_ \--

And then it was gone, and Dr. Holdo’s eyes were calm and round again. “I’m so sorry for being presumptuous, Rey--I was going to recommend you do some talk therapy for an eating disorder, but--let me just find you a different referral.” Rey felt her phone vibrate in her hoodie pocket as Dr. Holdo added referrals to her patient portal through the office’s computer. Slowly, she started to slide down from the exam table.

“Just a bit more to go over, I’m afraid.” Dr. Holdo smiled, and it was pure pity this time. “Particularly about your heats.”

Rey sat back down. She had listened in sex-ed--Alpha’s and Omega’s all took blockers and suppressants, and by her age, they only needed to deal with heats and ruts--

“Every three months, for at least a year.” Rey’s jaw dropped. What about school? Work?

She must have said it out loud. “Designation is a protected class under Title IX. Most schools and workplaces have built in policies for _typical_ needs--” Typical, like normal. Like _Not Rey_ , like _here comes Rey with her dirty clothes and her weird hair and her dad who’s not her dad._ “--but I’m writing you a note for up to six days every three months. Of course, it’ll be up to your employer to decide if it’s six _paid_ days or not--”  
  
“Wait, _six days every three months_?” Definitely out loud that time. There was no way she was getting more than three weeks of paid vacation from her shitty, part-time diner job.

Another pitiful smile. “Late presentation poses a lot of risk for hormonal issues if not managed properly. Early-onset menopause, PCOS--even increased risk for certain reproductive cancers if we don’t proceed carefully. We’ll need you to cycle several times to ensure your hormones are rebalancing.” _We?_ Would Dr. Holdo be the one asking Han Solo and Chewie Bacca for a three week _masturbation vacation_? “There’s also the matter of the intensity.”

“Intensity.”

To her credit, Dr. Holdo continued to make it through without a single cringe. “Your heightened hormone levels will make the symptoms of your first few heats more intense. Things like cramping, heat and light sensitivity--but also the emotional and psychological symptoms.” 

Rey cocked her head. Beta sex-ed had been very clinical about heats and ruts. Dr. Holdo’s eyes trailed off Rey’s face like she was searching the office for the right words. “Heats are a time of emotional bonding, not just sexual congress.” When would this conversation be over? “Many Omegas choose to have heats without Alphas, but it can be--distressing at times. Lonely. Even more so in early heats. And _even more so_ in the early heats of a late presenter. To say it could be traumatizing for you would not be an exaggeration.”

_(“Get in the house, girl!” Rey had packed all her clothes and a few choice toys in the neon green JanSport her social worker gave to her on the first night of her placement with Plutt. She was standing at the edge of the driveway, wind and sand whipping around her._

_“I’m waiting for the bus!” There were busses in Jakku; she came here on a bus. One of them had to pass by eventually, and then she’d take it back to the place where her parents were from. She couldn’t remember the name, but the bus ride was long and she would have time to think of it on the way._

_“You have thirty seconds before I lock the door for the night!” By now, she knew Plutt didn’t bluff._

_She counted to fifteen before deciding to just try again tomorrow, and then ran to the door--but it was locked already. She knocked lightly. “Consider this a lesson.” Plutt’s answer came from the front room. He was just on the other side of the door but he wouldn't let her in._

_Rey spent the night on the porch, and thanking her past self for prioritizing clothes instead of toys. The desert night was frigidly cold, and she needed layers._

_She stayed awake until Plutt let her in around lunchtime the next day. He asked her if she learned her lesson. “Yes,” she said. She had watched the street the whole time. “There are no busses away from Jakku.”)_

“As a provider--and as an Omega--I recommend finding an Alpha for at least your first heat. A friend, maybe? Or there are apps, I think. Rutter.” Finally something made Dr. Holdo cringe with discomfort. 

“I’m prescribing you a scent-blocker for daily use and a progestin-only suppressant that will delay your first heat for up to a month while you make arrangements with school and work--28 pills, 28 days.” Dr. Holdo looked up from the computer screen where she was entering the information. “Avoid public spaces for the next few days while they take effect.”

****

For the second time in less than a week, Rey was sitting behind Finn in the backseat of Rose’s Kia Soul. This time, they were at the Rite Aid drive thru lane. Rey was in the back so she could talk to the pharmacist when they pulled up to the window, but it was just the two of them--like he was her _chauffeur._

“I’m sorry--this is weird--I would drive, it’s just my license is expired and it’s, like, impossible for me to remember to mail the stupid application back to Arizona with everything else going on--”

“Rey,” Finn briefly found her eyes in the side view mirror as the car inched forward. “You’re on the edge of your first heat ever. I know what that’s like. I wouldn’t have let you drive no matter what.”

It was different for male Omegas--less intense but more frequent--but he did know something of what she was feeling: the creeping anxiety that kept rising in her throat; the need to make a safe nest. 

That’s what had driven her IKEA shopping spree. She was nesting. Her itchy, achy body had been caused by her emerging scent and mating glands and the worst thing--well, the worst thing was that she was soaked. Sticky. All the time; even just sitting in the back of Rose’s car while Finn hummed along to something on the radio she couldn’t focus on.

It was disgusting. She woke up that morning panting and mewling on her own fingers and it wasn’t even until after she came--loud and desperate--that she remembered she had _housemates._ They were all in class, thank God, but the event left her terrified to even take a nap.

But also--kind of excited? Because Poe was an Alpha and maybe that was the easiest solution--maybe he would find her, grinding down on her own fingers, needy and red-faced from the effort, but it just wasn’t _quite enough._ Rey shifted her pelvis on the seat and it was-- _oh_ \--nice, in an indirect, teasing kind of way. Maybe Poe was like that in bed. 

She did it again, this time grinding forward, and again, and _again_ , spreading her legs as discreetly as she could to get her clit closer to the leather. Poe would be pressed against her, warning her to be good and keep quiet; maybe shoving some fingers in her mouth if that’s what she needed so badly. What she was doing was obvious, probably, but her sweatpants were in the way, and Poe would be whispering in her ear, _No hands allowed, Rey_.

She gasped--out loud, louder than the radio--dry humping her housemate’s backseat to the thought of her _other_ housemate, who was involved with the housemate currently driving her around to doctors appointments and pharmacies. She was the most thoughtless, thankless, horrible person alive. When she looked up, Finn had opened his window. He could smell it. He was--laughing?

Blessed Finn--Saint Finn--was covering his mouth and stifling a giggle. “Rey, I promise you--once you’ve got a few heats under your belt, we’ll trade war stories. There’s nothing you can do in that back seat that I haven’t done _twice_ in a doubles dorm freshman year.”

Embarrassed and comforted, she covered her face with her hands. “Finn,” she said, projecting through the cracks in her fingers. She hated the thought of asking, but she needed to just get _through_ this without jumping a random Alpha. “Does Poe have any nice Alpha friends?”

****

The second the pharmacist handed over the suppressant, Rey dry swallowed the first dose in the back of the car.

Finn was sure Poe had some potential candidates, but he would be in his sculpture studio class until 8 PM. Which was fine--Rey had some missed work to catch up on from the last two days. 

She heaved her books onto her desk and--well, maybe she would take off her sweatpants before she sat down. It was a little hot on the third floor where her room was. She locked the door--no need for anyone to bother her while she was studying--and why not, she took her baggy t-shirt off, too. 

There was a pen she really wanted in her bedside drawer, so she crossed the room--but paused in front of her floor length mirror. Her body was flushed, but the biggest tell was the wet spot in the front of her panties. It wasn’t her fault--the vibration of the engine in Rose’s car had been edging her towards an orgasm long before she started thinking about Poe.

But she wouldn’t think about Poe again. It was wrong--he and Finn were practically mated. She would make up some generic Alpha, and that would be fine. But she was studying, anyway.

The bedside table was a mess, inside and out, and she couldn’t find the pen. Maybe she was distracted by the idle rubbing of her left hand between her things, but she did find--well, it would be a waste to put it back. Her vibrator was slim and small, and what if she couldn’t find it again in the mess? Better to keep it out on her clean desk. 

She sat down in her leather desk chair with her legs crossed, but then--it just felt _good_ to spread her knees over the edges and grind into the seams. Just a little bit, no one was around. After the past two days, she had _earned_ it. _Fuck it_ \--she ghosted her left down her pelvis and slipped it into her panties, tracing her swollen clit. After hours of indirect contact, it was like touching a live wire. She already felt so hot; so sweaty and sticky on the leather as she circled a finger around her entrance.

_No hands allowed, Rey._

It wasn’t Poe’s teasing coo--it was deeper, authoritative. The voice wasn’t teasing her, but giving her a rule; a way to be _good_. She huffed and took her hand out.

_Good girl_.

Her whole body shivered but her pussy _throbbed._ She eyed the vibrator on her desk. That wasn’t her hands, right?

She could imagine a dark chuckle in her ear. _You can put it in the front of your panties but don’t turn it on. Still no hands._

This was worse, somehow. The vibrator was pressed tight to her clit by her underwear and the desk chair, but it was smooth even as she ground against it--all pressure, no friction. If she just--

She imagined the Alpha taking her wrists in one giant hand and pinning them behind her back to keep her from misbehaving. _Only good girls get to cum._ Oh, god--those were the only two things on Earth she wanted.

The Alpha would be so much bigger than her. He could manipulate her body any way he wanted--keep her hands bound, keep her hips tilted at the exact angle that did nothing but edge her, no matter how she moved. Keep her legs pinned open with his knees as she sat on his lap, whining, squirming, _please, Alpha, please let me._

She was using her hand now, but it was his hand--huge and covering the entire crevice of her thighs as he let her rub against him. _Not until I say._ His other hand would loosely cradle her throat, lightly squeezing the glands there as she begged. She could almost see his two giant thighs keeping hers spread open as she started to twitch and clench. He _tsked_ , disapproving, nuzzled into her hair and growled--

_Is everyone in this diner a fucking idiot?_

The noise that came out of her mouth was guttural. Inhuman. A reaction to masturbating to Ben Fucking Solo. Her hands, her chair, her _carpet_ \--were all covered in slick.

Poe better have some nice Alpha friends.

****

Poe did not have nice Alpha friends. He had _a_ nice Alpha friend.

“A lot of my contemporaries are mated now,” he said, twirling his spaghetti onto his fork and tossing a wink at Finn. “We’re liable to do that.”

“So who’s the guy--or girl,” Rose was the last to know about Rey’s presentation, but took no offense.

_(“Paige presented in the diving pool during gym class her freshman year of highschool. They had to shut the pool down for 48 hours,” Rose said, munching on some before-dinner pretzel sticks as Rey choked through the story of her own blossoming . “I get it--as much as I can. It’s never a fun memory.”)_

“Ben.”

Rey promptly aspirated her spaghetti.

“Rey! What the--” 

“Someone get water!”

“No--you two idiots--” Rose was first to slap her--hard--on the back. A few wheezing coughs later, she could speak again.

“Sorry,” Rey’s voice was strained and froggy from the coughing, but appropriate for her panic. “Ben who?”

“Ben Solo.” Rey went instantly wide-eyed and pale. There was no spaghetti to choke on this time. “Han’s son.”

Bizarrely, Rose clapped her hands together with excitement. “Oh, I love Ben for you!”

“Wait--”

“Yeah, he’s usually up for a heat. Kind of an Alpha’s Alpha, in that way. Never tied down.”

“Paige hooked up with him a few times before she left for France. Gentleman. Huge knot. Rave reviews about his--”

“I’ve met him!” Rey was a little loud, but she needed to stop hearing about Ben Fucking Solo’s dick. “He’s an asshole.”

“Ben?” Poe was incredulous. “Did you meet him ten years ago? He’s a sweetie pie.”

Rey conveniently left out Ben’s role in her presentation each time she rehashed the story for her housemates. In her version of events, Chewie caught a light sniff off of her and sent her home until she could go to the doctor as a precaution. The staring, the crying, and the godawful conversation with Han were all too mortifying. “Yeah, I met him the day I presented. He was a total dick to me because I didn’t seat him fast enough.” A shade of the truth, but Poe seemed doubtful.

Rose gasped. “Oh my god--do you think he triggered your presentation?”

Finn sighed and smiled. “Rose, she was nesting before she even met him.” Rose deflated.

Slowly, voice as low and even as she could manage, Rey begged, “Just don’t ask him, okay?” Her lip was already quivering. The suppressants weren’t doing a damn thing yet. She was still emotional--especially at the thought of being embarrassed again in front of big, dumb, Alpha Ben Solo again.

“Okay,” Poe replied softly. “I won’t.” 

Finn chugged back the last of his wine. “Okay. To Rutter.”

* * *

Friday nights were Ben’s library nights. He had done the partying thing in undergrad--to excess--and now he valued Fridays for the empty study rooms at Chandrila University’s historic library. They were impossible to reserve on almost any other night.

_Poe Dameron would like to FaceTime…_

Ben sighed and propped his phone up against his backpack on the table. Poe had started FaceTiming him when he moved away for his undergrad (“I miss _seeing you_ , Ben. I FaceTime because I want to _see_ you.”) but now that he was back in Coruscant for graduate school, it seemed unnecessary. Besides, they had just spoken an hour ago.

Poe had a new roommate--Rachel Something?--who was looking for an Alpha for an upcoming heat. Ben agreed, quickly. The encounter with the waitress at _The Falcon_ had left him twitchy, angry--and fully hard at random points during the last few days. Ben could meet Poe’s new roommate at their house next Friday, and _hopefully_ be knotting her through the weekend.

“Yes, my prince?”

“Solo--” Poe was out of breath and outside. 

“Dude, are you getting mugged?”

“No, I--” He panted heavily. “I fucked up--had to get far from the house.”

“If you’re calling me for relationship advice, you’re totally boned.”

“No, God--fuck you--the girl.” Poe kept moving the camera like he was still walking. “It’s off; it’s a no-go.”

That was--disappointing--but fine. “What happened?”

“She already met you, I guess? Or some past, evil version of Ben Solo. Said you were an asshole.”

Sure, Ben wasn’t great at first impressions, and heats were personal, but he couldn’t remember _truly_ being an asshole--oh, God. “Met me where?”

“The diner. Something about yelling at her--”

“Her name--what’s your roommate’s name again?” This was a movie. A regency era comedy of errors.

“Rachel, but she goes by ‘Rey.’ I told her there’s no way you were--”

“I--was. I definitely was.” Ben rolled his chair back so he could rest his forehead on the table. That waitress. He could be fucking that waitress who smelled like fresh cookies and baked apples, but he was _stupid._ Terminally stupid.

“Dude, what happened? She, like, really doesn’t like you.”

“It’s--complicated.” He lifted his head from the table and sighed. “ _Fuck._ ” 

****

Rutter was not preferable, but effective. Ben couldn’t afford to be picky about _where_ he met an Omega at this point. Learning how close he’d been to spending a heat with the waitress-- _Rey_ , beautiful, sweet, juicy, Rey--made things worse somehow. He was half-hard on the train home like a fucking creep and now, alone in his apartment, he was at full attention.

_Kylo Ren_. That was the fake name he used ever since he started teaching some introductory engineering courses for his graduate degree. His profile was faceless, like a lot of profiles were--just pictures of his back and chest, mostly. 

Leaning against his closed front door, Ben unbuckled his belt, dragged his zipper down, and pulled his erection out. This was an emergency. Adding a dick pic to his Rutter profile was like getting verified on Twitter--proof that he was who he said he was and not just some Beta dude-bro looking to play Alpha for affirmation online. 

_6’4”. 26. Alpha._

And now, a picture of his almost-popped knot to prove it.

****  
  


Bazine was a means to an end--an end which Ben found in her mouth, her pussy, and in between her clenched thighs as he lazily rutted against her the next morning. 

“I’m too sore,” she had said, sleepily swatting his hand away when he tried to slip two fingers inside of her. “You’re fucking huge to take outside of heat.”

_(He was fourteen and crammed in the backseat of Han’s Camaro with Jessika Pava. They were--dating, maybe? But it was new, and she didn’t want to tell anyone. She was rubbing her hands over the bulge in his pants, kissing him, and she smelled like blue raspberry Jolly Ranchers. Jess was a senior and experienced._

_Slowly, she worked his pants off. Ben was vibrating--this could be it; Jess could be the girl to save him from his sexless, rage-fueled existence. Someone to share ruts and heats with. An Omega to take care of forever--like those Hallmark Channel movies his mom was always watching. God, he wanted that so bad--_

_“Oh my God.” Jess’s hands covered her mouth as she stared at Ben’s exposed cock. “There’s no way I’m taking that, not for anything . Alex Hutt can keep his fifty bucks.”_

_The car door slammed. Ben was alone again.)_

A younger Ben might’ve been irritated by the way Bazine waived him off, but knotting a hook-up the morning after was always--weird. Too intimate. She saved them from having to make thirty minutes of awkward small talk while locked together.

Instead, they made awkward small talk at his kitchen counter. Bazine was vegan (“It’s just that Omega instinct, you know? I don’t want to contribute to suffering.”), so breakfast was a challenge. He settled on an amended version of the avocado toast he usually made for himself.

“You’re really good at this, you know,” Bazine said through a mouth full of bread. “Not just the sex--which you are--but the _caring_ part.” Ben blushed down at his plate. Cooking was a fun hobby, but his real passion was _this--_ praise from an Omega. Proof that he could be a good Alpha for someone one day. “If you weren’t such a meathead Alpha, I’d ask you out on a date.”

Oh.

Bazine finished her toast. While she showered, Ben did the dishes. Doubled checked to make sure she had all her belongings piled together on his bed. When she came out of the bathroom asking for a hair tie, he tossed her one from the coffee mug on his desk.

“Later, _Kylo!_ ”

The apartment door slammed. Ben was alone again.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> SPOILER UNDERAGE TW: ben is emotionally manipulated by an 18 year old girl at 14. she kisses and gropes him. they do not engage in any type of sex.


End file.
